Déjà Vu
by tromana
Summary: It was meant to be over. Trust Jane to send them spiraling back to square one again. Jane/Lisbon. Written for boutondor in the Jello Forever Summer Secret Santa.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** As Army's nearly finished, I thought I'd start posting this little thing.

This is the last of my fics written in the Summer Secret Santa, for boutondor. Kindly beta'd by Yana. Thank you so much!

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **Déjà Vu  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon  
**Summary: **It was meant to be over. Trust Jane to send them spiraling back to square one again.  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **Written for boutondor in the Jello Forever Summer Secret Santa. Beta'd by yaba.

**Déjà Vu**

**Prologue**

As Judge 'Dredd' Hildred's final words reverberated through the court room, Lisbon's head automatically sank into her hands. Not only out of embarrassment, but also out of sheer frustration. Of all the cases she had worked on, this was the one that she wanted, no, _needed_ to work out right. Naturally, it hadn't and Lisbon cursed herself slightly. She should have expected this. Before she had even entered the room, hell, the whole court house, she should have known that Red John's trial was never going to proceed and conclude normally. She tilted her head up and smiled weakly at Cho. He nodded and allowed his hand to remain rested on the small of her back. It was a small comfort, one they both needed.

Simon 'Red John' Morton was free to roam the streets once more.

His initial capture had nearly cost the entirety of the Serious Crimes Unit their lives one way or another. Rigsby and Van Pelt had been caught in a fire, chasing down a false lead. Cho had narrowly escaped a fatal injury during a shoot out. His left leg would never regain its full mobility, but he was relieved to have survived, if only because there was nobody else to look after his old mother. Lisbon had found herself at the mercy of Red John's blade and had the scars to prove it.

And as for Jane, well, Lisbon swore it had cost him his sanity. Not that he would believe that of course.

When they apprehended Red John, it was Lisbon who had somehow managed to overpower him and that was despite the fact she'd had a knife held against the vulnerable skin of her neck just seconds beforehand. She had been the one 'lucky' enough to slap the metal handcuffs tightly around his wrists. When she picked up the knife that had nearly killed her barely a month beforehand, she was shaking with blessed relief. That was not something she wanted to relive again, despite the fact she had marks on her abdomen to remind her each and every day. She was lucky. They all were.

Jane hadn't quite seen it that way, however. The moment he knew for certain that Morton was in jail, awaiting trial, his resignation papers hit Lisbon's desk. She had asked him for a reason why he was quitting, but being Jane, he naturally refused to give her a straight answer. She'd tried not to miss him since then, really, she had; unfortunately that hadn't been going all that well. And now, she was going to have to try and contact him and explain that the notorious criminal had been acquitted. Why? Because Jane himself had crossed way too many lines and compromised every shred of evidence they had on Red John.

He appeared to have used every trick in the book from searching without a warrant to hypnotism to death threats. As the list had grown, Lisbon just wanted to disappear into the ground. Jane's recklessness made her look incompetent and she was simply grateful that Hightower could still see her usefulness now that he had left the bureau.

At least Jane not turning up for the trial, apart from when he had stood on the witness stand, was something of a relief. It was probably because Jane didn't want to see the man who killed his family again, even if his ego and confidence levels were like a bottomless pit. Or perhaps he knew just how much he'd compromised the case and couldn't bear to see Red John released once more on his account. Whatever the reason, it meant that she could tell him carefully and give him only the information he needed. Though, she also knew it would reignite his quest for vengeance. That Patrick Jane was likely to attempt to murder Morton this time around.

Lisbon had had to face Morton in court though; she needed the answers. The acquitted criminal paused in front of them and peered down at her and Cho. It occurred to Lisbon instantly that they were both victims who slipped through his fingers. She especially had a price to pay - she was the one who put him behind bars in the first place.

"We will meet again, Ms. Lisbon, Mr. Cho."

As he walked away with his lawyer, Lisbon and Cho shared a glance that spoke volumes. Somehow, they had to catch him again. And this time, they had to make sure it stuck.

**TBC…**


	2. Part 1

**A/N: **Thank you to: Penelope Louise, Simonisthecuttestmentalist, Viktorija, Frogster, autumnftw, Jisbon4ever, BelleLee and anthropologist for reviewing the prologue. Especially so to anthropologist who logged in anonymously (lazy!). Thanks also to Yana for betaing - you're awesome.

Now back to writing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part One**

It seemed like even though the dust had yet to settle on the case of one serial killer, another was already ready to try and take his place. They'd been working on and off on another case for a short while, with little luck in solving it, despite all the invested effort so far. The victim, Honey O'Mara, had been found hanging from her staircase. ME ruled out suicide, because the break in her spine occurred post mortem; the hanging was just for display and shock tactics. The actual cause of death had been rather more mundane - a couple of shots to the back of her head. The team had initially thought it was due to her cheating on her husband with their son's tutor. That either the husband or the lover had wanted to humiliate her, even in death. However, nothing had stuck, with both the husband and lover being equally stubborn, and they soon become distracted by Red John and his mind games.

Lisbon hadn't even considered the thought that the killer might strike again and there hadn't been anything to suggest that Honey wasn't the only intended victim. However, she began to change her mind when Michael Ellery's body was presented to them in exactly the same manner, right down to the positioning of the gunshot wounds and the knots used in the noose. She already had Van Pelt avidly searching databases for anything that linked Ellery to the O'Mara case and was hoping that they would get a break soon. Serial killers were dangerous business, and provided that this wasn't just a copy-cat killer, it could mean they had somebody else as dangerous as Red John on their hands again.

It was particularly annoying that they still had to put Red John behind bars for good, or preferably on death row first. Lisbon tried not to think of the case as having been thrown back to square one, because it hadn't. They knew his identity, which was a major detail they had been lacking last time around. All they had to do was hope that they could find some uncompromised evidence to put Morton back where he belonged. Rigsby was already working hard on that task, enjoying the heightened sense of responsibility that came when the team's resources were being stretched to the very limits. He had been lucky enough not to come into direct contact with the serial killer first time around but still felt the desperate need to do something useful. Especially because the result of the trial had made it blindingly obvious that they were all at risk now. Morton wasn't going to take being arrested and trialed lying down - he was Red John, after all - and it was inevitable that sooner or later, he'd be after blood.

However, Lisbon was trying to stop thinking about him at that very moment and to focus on the task in hand instead. She watched warily as Mrs. Ellery puttered back from the kitchen with a teapot and three china cups balanced precariously on a tray. As quickly as arthritic knees would let her, she settled down into the cushioned chair opposite the senior agent before pouring her a cup of tea she never asked for and didn't actually want. Lisbon didn't have the heart to say no as it seemed the woman wouldn't be content until the two agents sitting in her family home were supplied with suitable refreshments. Quickly, she nodded her thanks and took a brief sip of the black tea, Jane flashing to the forefront of her mind. While placing the cup back down on the glass table, she mentally reprimanded herself. There was absolutely no need to be thinking of her ex-consultant when she had a job to do. And she really needed to stop associating him with inane things like tea. She was a grown woman and it wasn't as if they'd just had an unhealthy break up that would even warrant such thoughts. Patrick Jane had been her consultant, a work colleague. Nothing more, nothing less. Thinking of him while speaking to the next of kin in a completely unrelated crime was even worse than worrying about another case.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Ellery," Lisbon started briefly and the woman glanced out of the window.

"Don't apologize, dear," she answered with a slight tremble. "It happens to all of us sooner or later."

Lisbon nodded in quiet agreement and Cho glanced warily at his boss. The woman was surprisingly accepting of her son's death and that was disconcerting to them. Mrs. Ellery cursed under her breath as she spilled a little of her own tea before glancing back up at the agents, almost as if she had only just remembered she had company. She smiled weakly at them, slowly collecting her thoughts again. The woman understood what they were doing - just their jobs - but it didn't mean it wasn't hard. She still had to cope with the realization that her only son had died a gruesome death, whether she liked it or not.

"I guess you'll want to know about Mike."

"Yes," Lisbon replied politely, confirming the old woman's statement. "Had Michael been acting any different lately? Mood swings? Problems at home?"

"No, he's been the same old Mike," she answered, eyeing Lisbon seriously. "He was a good boy, came to see me every other day. Made sure I had plenty to read and that my freezer was always full. He never got married, never had the time, he said…"

"Anyone who would want to harm him? People who held a grudge?"

"No, not that I know of," the woman started and both Lisbon and Cho began to think that the woman, though sweet, was entirely wasting their time. "Except, he had a few problems with work. It's a bad time to be self-employed."

"It is."

"He was seeing a debt counselor; I can't remember his name though. Would that be of any help?"

Lisbon nodded and rose to her feet, with Cho immediately mirroring actions.

"Thank you for your time."

"Promise me one thing, Ms. Lisbon?"

"Yes."

"Catch the man who killed my boy."

"I'll try my best."

000

He could have gone back to Malibu. Since he'd resigned from the CBI, Jane actually had little reason to stay in Sacramento. Sure, in the years he'd been working there, he'd come to see the city as being a home of sorts, but he didn't have any real connections with the place otherwise. His family never settled there and besides, they were all either long forgotten or long dead, he had no real friends to speak of (except, maybe, his ex-boss and her team); therefore, nothing obligated him to stay. However, Malibu wasn't exactly that much better. The place was riddled with ghosts, which he'd hoped would have been laid to rest once he dealt with Red John.

Knowing the serial killer was behind bars should have been good enough, but he never managed to exact the revenge he'd always intended. He hadn't even been present when Lisbon managed to apprehend him, much to her relief, no doubt. Jane wondered if he would have felt more fulfilled if he'd kept that unspoken promise to his wife and child; probably not.

They'd still be dead and he'd still have blood on his hands. At least he knew the identity of the bastard who did it. All the people he'd been working with had been hurt somehow in the process though and that was why he knew that he had to get out. If he continued working with the CBI, sooner or later, at least one of them would suffer whether it would be physically, mentally or emotionally. So, Jane had cut his losses and left them as soon as possible. Though he hadn't done what he'd set out to do, he had managed to get the answers to the questions that had been haunting him for longer than he cared to admit and that should have been enough.

Absentmindedly, he switched the channel. Nothing was on - he had forgotten just how terrible daytime television could be because he'd grown so used to spending his days at work, usually irritating Lisbon or napping on that couch. Eventually, he allowed the remote to fall by his side. Really, he should have found something constructive to do, like reading a book or finding a new job, but frankly, he couldn't be bothered. Instead, he allowed himself to drift off into a fitful sleep to the sound of middle-aged women scrapping over just how 'hot' a piece of eye candy was.

A familiar voice filled his lounge and he jolted awake. Half of him expected Special Agent Madeleine Hightower to shoot some sarcastic comment about sleeping on work hours before he remembered where he actually was. Still, he maneuvered himself into a sitting position and stared at the screen with interest. She looked tired, probably because her ex husband was battling with her over the children yet again. Normally at work, she was in her element, or that was his experience with her, at least.

Hightower had always been particularly good at keeping her professional and personal life separate and even if somebody tried to goad her about her less than perfect family, she usually just shrugged it off with amusement. Jane certainly wasn't used to the woman looking like she was dead on her feet and her snappish demeanor with the reporters was especially uncharacteristic.

"…_and I have my best team working right now to ensure that Simon Morton, notably known as the serial killer Red John, is indeed, brought to justice once more."_

He froze.

Red John.

Judge Hildred let Simon 'Red John' Morton off the hook?But the evidence was damning. They had had proof that he killed every single one of those women. And Bosco and his team…as well as his daughter. Lisbon herself had nearly died as a result of the stab wound she had received on one occasion too. What the hell had gone wrong?

Ah.

Yes.

_He_ had happened.

Patrick Jane, so frenetic in his desperation to capture Red John, had crossed every line in order to try and catch up to the elusive serial killer. When things had gotten particularly close, his actions had become even worse. He should have listened to Lisbon. She, along with so many others, had tried to warn him of the importance of professionalism, of playing by the rules. In so many meaningful looks, Lisbon had warned him time and again that he would come to regret it. But without what he'd done, they'd never have caught him. Or at least one of them would have died.

Of course, Hildred didn't take that into account. All he cared was that some upstart lawyer had managed to pick apart the prosecution's case to pieces and leave the team back where they had started, while putting Morton back on the streets where he would invariably murder again and tear yet another innocent family to shreds.

It was probably a good thing that he'd left. Lisbon would have killed him for compromising the case that should have made her career. And she had to try and find something that would hold up in court, something to get the conviction they all craved.

But still, Hightower's words meant one thing.

It wasn't over.

**TBC…**


	3. Part 2

**A/N:** It's hard to update when you have a kitten continually biting your hand. Those teeth hurt!

Thank you to: Jisbon4ever, Frogster, autumnftw and I'm assuming, anthropologist (I think it logged you out mid-review. If it's not you, sorry to whoever it is!) for reviewing part one. It's much appreciated. Also to Yana for the beta job.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Two**

He didn't tell anybody, but Jane had ensured that he kept private files on Red John for his own collection.

It was something that Lisbon would probably have been furious about, but ultimately, it had been where he found that final link to apprehend Red John last time.

Did two wrongs make a right? Obviously not.

Morton was somewhere out there, probably celebrating the fact that, yet again, he had managed to elude the authorities, or at least, beat them at their own game. Of course he was going to be more careful now with whatever he did, that was a given. Would the murderer be able to resist taunting him now that he had been given a second chance? Probably not, if Jane was right in his judgment and that was why he was so determined to find him first. Besides, there wasn't only his own safety to consider. There was the team's too - especially that of Lisbon and Cho - who both had inadvertently antagonized the serial killer the most during the case.

He expected Lisbon to contact him sooner or later, to tell him about Red John's release. She probably assumed that he was buried so deep in melancholy that he didn't even have the energy to keep up with current affairs, especially since he wasn't present during the ruling. Whether or not she would ask him to come back due to the latest developments would be another matter. She was probably thrilled that the number of complaints and charges finding their way to her desk had decreased, but at the same time, the number of closed cases had too, probably.

Working directly with them again would provide him with a way to keep an eye out on them, to make sure they were safe. That was something both of the agents would find laughable, considering just how many times he had gotten them into trouble or they had rescued him from a dangerous situation. Besides, he was probably the one responsible for Morton's acquittal. Would they even want him around when he had caused them so much trouble? Unlikely. It was for the best that he made his own investigations, helped them from the sidelines, indirectly, rather than as overtly as before.

Jane slowly opened the first file. The paperwork had been something of a comfort to him during those long, lonely years he spent chasing Red John. Flicking through the paperwork meant that he felt like he was doing some work for the case even during down time and especially whenever he was suspended for one reason or another. They'd given him something to focus on; a distraction of sorts. He could even say that they stopped him from going insane at times.

Now, as he really wanted to do something and considering he didn't have access to CBI resources, they were all he had to work with.

Carefully, he started observing the sheets of paper he had in front of him. It had been a while since he'd last looked at the files. Well, for a long while, he didn't need to. Morton's lawyers managed to successfully stall the case going to court for long enough to pick apart all the holes that Jane had left in his wake. Jane almost threw them away on a couple of occasions; they were reminders of Red John that he didn't really need lying around in his house. For the first time in a long while, he was actually grateful for his sheer laziness.

Eventually, the words began to blur together and he pulled himself away from the documents. A tea break sounded like a good plan. He smiled briefly as he poured the water into the tea cup, it slowly becoming a milky brown color as he filled it to the rim. Quickly, he dipped a spoon inside, ignoring the water that splashed outside and onto the saucer and squeezed the tea bag a couple of times before disposing of it. Lifting the hot drink up, he quickly smelled it, pleased with the result. It was just a standard black tea; he'd have preferred Oolong, but had found it hard to get hold of recently, so what he had would suffice. After the first sip, he headed back to the lounge where he had made camp. It was time to get back to work.

Jane knocked the tea over as he made the connection, it sinking slowly into his plush carpet. Morton appeared to have used the same townhouse as his base on several occasions and it wasn't far away - about fifteen minutes from CBI headquarters. From his house, it would take him barely thirty minutes by car to arrive there. The proximity unnerved him a little. Morton had clearly liked to have as close an eye as possible on them all.

He stood. It felt good to be doing something again though.

Even if he was alone and that felt lonelier than he had ever imagined before.

000

"Have you told…"

Rigsby trailed off as he stared at his boss. He'd grown in confidence around her, something which was a relief to both of them. Still, he rarely challenged her or her decisions unless he really felt the need to. Currently, Patrick Jane was one of the areas where he felt the need to do just that. Unlike Lisbon, who was always took the "ripping off of a band-aid" approach to the ex-consultant and was therefore pretending he didn't exist at all, Rigsby still saw him as a part of the team. He'd done so much for them and the agent believed that he had learned almost as much from Jane as Lisbon herself. Therefore, he couldn't help the attachment. Lisbon narrowed her eyes in his direction and Rigsby immediately felt like his almost question had been out of place.

"No, I haven't told Jane yet."

"Will you?"

"Soon."

"He's probably already found out elsewhere though."

"Is there a point to this conversation, Rigsby?"

"If he does know, he's probably chasing after Morton as we speak."

"I know. Keep an eye on him."

"Boss?"

Both of them suddenly looked at the door, where Van Pelt was standing, waiting patiently for her turn. Lisbon beckoned her in as Rigsby quickly said his farewells, avoiding looking the red head in the eye. Somehow, since they had been forced to break up by Madeleine Hightower, they had managed to control their urges and remain separated. It led to a stilted relationship, of sorts, but at least they managed to work with one another. Lisbon had been scared that she would have to transfer one of them, but they had both been mature adults when it came to the ending of their relationship. Probably acting more grown up than when they had been together.

"What do you have, Van Pelt?"

She quickly explained what she had been doing. While looking at the O'Mara notes, she had realized that the young woman had worked at a debt counselor's office, as a receptionist. On the company's Farrington and Son's clientele list was Michael Ellery, being charged a surprisingly large amount considering his situation. He'd been seeing them for quite some time, a good eighteen months or so, and spent a fortune in the process. Lisbon smirked to herself. Maybe if he'd stopped spending all that money on seeing a debt counselor, he wouldn't actually owe all that much money to other people too. Her fingers scanned the list and she frowned. There was money leaving the company but it wasn't clear where it was going to. It could be that she just wasn't looking at the thing properly. Asking Van Pelt, who could come up with no explanation, her frown deepened. This discrepancy was worth checking out.

"There's something odd about this guy's cash flow income, then. Ask Cho to look into it," Lisbon said and Van Pelt gave her a quizzical look. "We'll go see if we can get anything direct from the source."

"Boss?"

"What? Would you prefer to stay in the office chasing up paper trails or come with me to question Mr. Farrington?"

"No… I'll go get Cho to look into the files."

000

Simon Morton flopped down onto the threadbare carpet and quickly turned on the television. Most normal people would switch it on to watch a drama, sports or even reality TV. Not him though. Then again, he had firmly identified himself as being about as far from normal as it was possible to get a long while ago. The images were blurred, but that was because the cameras had to be hidden, or at least as out of sight as possible.

Security at the CBI headquarters had clearly been woefully lacking since he managed to get someone into the building to install his technology. Jane's apartment too, but that had been expected. The man really didn't care about his personal safety. Patrick Jane was disappointing him as of late, barely moving from his couch and watching television most of the time. That meant Morton didn't bother watching him much; there was nothing to see so no point in wasting his energy.

Teresa Lisbon was currently talking to the youngest member of her team, the pretty attractive red head. A smile crept onto his face as the tiny microphone picked up the sound of their voices. They were discussing another case, something about the new serial killer who was trying to make a name for himself. Lisbon was probably worried that he would strike soon himself, angry at the fact that someone was trying to steal his thunder. On the contrary, though, Morton literally encouraged the so far nameless murderer. He had a nice style, had already offered to help him out on occasion, as proven with the surveillance system and most importantly, SCU's distraction. It meant that they had less time and energy to worry about their dear old friend, 'Red John', even if they did have one individual working on the case. It also meant that the lovely Agent Lisbon was split between two major cases, not putting all her energies into one, as she probably should.

And all that meant he could plan his next strike whenever he so chose.

**TBC…**


	4. Part 3

**A/N:** So another chapter. Yay? I should really get on with this Five Times fic I started. It's well overdue, well in my eyes anyway.

Thank you to: anthropologist, Frogster, autumnftw, Jisbon4ever and Viktorija for reviewing part two and to Yana for betaing.

Also, happy birthday, Jisbon4ever. I hope you have a wonderful day.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Three**

Jane glanced in the mirror quickly and was rather taken aback to see an all too familiar SUV tailing him.

Of course, it was just one of the CBI's generic ones, but out of habit, he'd memorized all the number plates. It didn't take him long to make the connection; it was the one Rigsby and Cho generally used. After another couple of seconds, he also worked out that it was Rigsby actually driving too; the two men contrasted enough physically for him to discern who the driver was in a mere reflection. Briefly, he wondered why Rigsby and not Lisbon herself was checking up on him, but she was probably busy elsewhere. The woman always had somewhere more important to be, something more important to do. He was also somewhat surprised that the team was keeping tabs on him; he'd honestly thought Lisbon had forgotten about him since he quit. Especially since his cell phone had remained painfully silent. Jane had honestly thought that she would have the decency to tell him about Morton, though obviously not.

He'd also thought they were friends, of sorts. Of course he realized that her job was demanding, that she had limited time to spare outside of those hours. Still, Jane had always thought that they had some kind of rapport and even when they were furious with one another, had enjoyed her company, thrived on it even. When Jane first joined the CBI, his intention had been to catch Red John and remain as aloof as possible, making only those attachments that would help him in his goal. The team had changed that - _she_ had changed that.

The reason he left was to save her from himself.

Virgil Minelli was right and he could still remember the exact words he used at that meeting, the one where the Red John case was ripped from his hands for that brief while. They had grown too close. Every time he compromised a case, he risked her career and Jane understood just how important that was to her. And besides, with Red John locked away, he had no reason to stay there any longer. Of course, had he known that Morton was going to get acquitted, he would have stayed to finish the job. If he was welcome of course.

Though now, he probably wasn't and it was far better to ensure he got the job done alone rather than being a sitting duck. He did trust the team to work the case properly, but with any one of them potentially being at risk, it was better that he did something. Besides, it made him feel useful again instead of wasting his life in front of the television.

As he took the corner, he checked again. Rigsby was still following him. He should have used a less distinctive car; it would have made him less obvious to follow if he could just merge in with the others. Within five minutes, he arrived at his destination and parked. Rigsby didn't follow, however. Jane didn't expect him to. He was probably calling for backup.

There was unlikely to be much at this location anyway. It was too obvious for Red John to be here. Still, it was better that he made sure he found out everything he could before they all came traipsing in.

000

Lisbon frowned and quickly dug around in her pocket for her phone that was buzzing . For a brief second, Van Pelt tore her eyes away from the road to look at her boss curiously. When she glared back at her, the red head returned her attention back to the task in hand. It was unusual for Lisbon to allow anyone else to drive, so she figured she must have been feeling under the weather. That was the simplest explanation and so, the most viable. Then again, ever since Red John's release, she'd been quieter, talking even less to the others, if that was feasibly possible. Van Pelt worried about her; they all did.

"Lisbon."

"It's Rigsby."

"Any luck?"

"Jane's just entered one of Morton's old hideouts, the one that was near CBI headquarters."

"That crazy son of a…" she muttered under her breath, cursing herself as she did so. "Right. Fine. Stay there and make sure he doesn't leave. We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Okay, Boss…"

"Make sure he doesn't get into any trouble, okay?"

Once Rigsby acknowledged what she had just said, she bid him farewell and clicked the phone shut. She should have known, shouldn't have doubted Jane. Quitting the CBI had probably left him bored out of his skull, looking for anything to entertain him. He'd more than likely found out about Morton's acquittal within two hours of it being announced and had been scheming ever since. Not just that, but he was probably also wondering why the hell she hadn't been the one to inform him of it.

Lisbon had intended to tell him, she was just putting it off. She knew what the Red John case meant to him and she'd failed to recognize that, not just as his boss but as a friend too; all because she didn't have the guts to warn him about it.

And now he was going to take on a deadly serial killer once again, this time on his own, without the protection of trained people. He didn't have _her_ keeping an eye on him. If she'd told him earlier, she might have been able to avoid this situation: her being scared witless that he might willfully put himself in danger, with her unable to stop it. She could have even asked him to return to the CBI so that they could work on the case together, rather than risking him breaking all known laws to man.

Lisbon didn't even know whether or not Jane would see it as a renewed chance for vengeance, just another opportunity for him to kill the man. The only reason he hadn't last time was because, mercifully, he hadn't been present when she'd arrested Morton. Instead, he was chasing up a false lead, set up by the serial killer for fun. This time, however…

As she told Van Pelt their new destination, she could only hope that Rigsby got there before Jane did anything reckless. That was, if there was anything left there to find at all, which was unlikely. Morton wasn't an idiot; he'd probably deserted that hideout long ago.

000

"Why the hell didn't you call me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Red John. Why didn't you tell me he was acquitted?"

"I was…" Lisbon started, before pausing and remembering why she had agreed to come to Rigsby's beck and call. "Hang on. What are you doing here?"

"It isn't a crime scene; I can come here if I want to."

"Damn it, Jane, it's a private residence."

Lisbon glared at him. He shouldn't be interfering; he should know better. Even though it was unlikely, what if Morton had been waiting for Jane in this house, aware of the consultant's inability to suppress his urge to confront the serial killer once more.

It was in his very instinct to ignore the dangers just to satisfy his need to know, and without her, without them, he could have died; could have been dead for weeks before anyone knew about it.

He could have called her. She would have apologized for neglecting to inform him about Red John and then… then they could have worked something out that was beneficial for the both of them. Instead, they were just furious with each other with neither willing to budge on inch. That was so typical of them and the way they worked.

Van Pelt and Rigsby eyed each other warily. It was a strange situation to be in; almost just like old times, only almost though, because Jane wasn't actually a work colleague anymore. It didn't surprise either of them that the moment Jane and Lisbon started at one another, they were at each other's throats. Both felt that they were most certainly in the right while the other was in the wrong - and both had their points. Lisbon probably should have told Jane about Morton's release: Jane had a particular interest in the case and had simply been scared of the resolution. However, he was also breaking the law by being present in the nondescript townhouse and should have known better. Quietly, Van Pelt indicated to the door and Rigsby nodded. Knowing what the pair of them were like, things could get personal very quickly and neither of them wanted to be there to watch two people they cared about tear each other to shreds.

Five minutes later and Jane stormed out of the building, clearly furious. He didn't give Rigsby and Van Pelt a second look and instead, crossed the road, climbed into his car, and drove off. It wasn't long until Lisbon came out either and she carefully pulled the door closed. She looked at the other two, confused. It was clear that they were hoping for some kind of reconciliation, that Jane might even start helping them again now that they had to deal with Red John, Morton, again. Jane's mood as he left had made it obvious that that wasn't the case. Now, she was the one left to pick up the pieces and sort through the mess. He didn't even have to be working with them to cause her trouble.

"I had to give him an official warning," Lisbon explained.

"Boss… he was only trying to…"

"I know what he was trying to do, but he was in the wrong."

"But…"

"Come on. There's no point in following him around; it's not our responsibility to make sure he doesn't throw his life away," she continued, though both of her subordinates weren't that impressed with her stubbornness. "Besides, we have cases to solve."

**TBC…**


	5. Part 4

**A/N: **Migraine relapses are not fun. But I guess that doesn't come as a surprise.

Thank you to: Viktorija, autumnftw, Jisbon4ever and Frogster for reviewing part three and to Yana for betaing. It's much appreciated.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Four**

Lisbon was still in a foul mood when they finally arrived at Farrington and Son's, especially because they came a day later than she originally anticipated. She scowled as she slammed the car door shut. Patrick Jane didn't even need to be employed by the CBI to cause her problems and potentially screw up cases for her.

Van Pelt watched tentatively before falling into step behind her. The younger woman felt sorry for Mr. Farrington, the man with whom they were hoping to talk. They'd attempted to visit him before, briefly after Honey O'Mara's murder and he had been less than co-operative, immediately passing them off to Employee Support Services. Going by the look of rigid determination on her boss' face, Van Pelt doubted that Lisbon would let something like that happen again. After all, Lisbon in a normal mood was a force to be reckoned with but Lisbon in her current mood was just plain scary.

The receptionist, a young girl with a brown bob, eagerly shaking hands and clearly new on the job, flinched at Lisbon's tone and scurried off in order to find Mr. Farrington. Last time they were here, there hadn't been a receptionist and things were relatively disorganized. It demonstrated just how important the lowliest of jobs was, if nothing else. With the position swiftly refilled, there seemed to be a sense of calm around the place, like everyone knew what they were doing and why. A few minutes later, the receptionist returned, looking rather nervous. Clearly the two agents had her even more on edge than usual.

"I'm sorry but Mr. Fa…"

"He does realize that this is urgent, doesn't he?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"That we're trying to solve…"

"Yes, ma'am."

With a sigh of frustration, Lisbon turned to face Van Pelt as footsteps approached. A relatively short man with a flash of dark hair stopped in front of them and tapped Lisbon lightly on the shoulder. His hair line was already receding but his eyes were as sharp as ever and he quickly took in the appearance of the two strangers in front of him, noting the badges clipped to their belts. It didn't take him long to place them: the brunette was a woman he'd dealt with before and the younger woman, obviously one of her subordinates.

"Thank you, Stephanie," he said with a grin. "I will take over from here."

"Yes, Mr. Farrington, sir," she muttered in a hushed breath.

"Mr. Farrington," Lisbon spoke and proffered a hand, which the man shook firmly. "It's good to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same, Agent Lisbon. Are you any closer to solving the murder of my receptionist?"

"The investigation is still ongoing," she replied tightly, with narrowed eyes. "Shall we take this some place more private?"

"Right. You need to work on your evasion skills, Agent."

"They're working just fine, thank you very much."

As they took the elevator to the fifth floor, Van Pelt remained silent. This was going to be an interesting interview to say the least. Farrington seemed keen on baiting Lisbon the way that Jane used to, and still did, if yesterday's performance was anything to go by.

She'd already decided that it might just be best to stay quiet and let Lisbon take the lead. Besides, Farrington was creepy and she hated the way that he kept looking at them both, almost as if he was trying to devour them with his eyes. She just hoped they wouldn't be in his presence for too long.

000

Jane flopped down on his mattress with a disgruntled sigh.

Yesterday could have gone better. A lot better.

He'd always known that when he saw Lisbon next, they'd squabble like school children. Too much time had passed since they'd last seen each other and the bitter silence that had enveloped between them meant there was too much water under the bridge for them not to. With someone as quick-tempered as Lisbon and as stubborn as himself, it was hardly surprising. Both of them were blaming each other, of course. That was blindingly obvious. So maybe he shouldn't have gone to Red John's old hideout, the abandoned townhouse which had long since been stripped of any sign of inhabitancy. He did know that it was technically illegal for him to go there, that he was trespassing, but he needed to do something rather than just sit around, waiting for the inevitable.

Besides, Lisbon knew what he was like, she didn't need to give him a warning and she certainly didn't need to fine him. That was just plain ridiculous. What she should have done was be the one to tell him about Morton's release and then he wouldn't have had to resort to extreme measures in the first place.

They could have been a team; like they always had been.

Then again, since it was Red John they were dealing with, she would probably accuse him of tunnel vision as she frequently did before. She might have even gone as far as suggesting he ought to seek out medical advice to try and reassess his priorities. As if he could do that. This was Red John, after all. He killed his wife and child and he very nearly killed the only people he has dared to care about since then too. Regardless of whether or not he was actually working with Lisbon and her team, he was still in danger and so were they. Jane was just hoping that by working the case separately, with the limited resources that he had, Red John would be more tempted to come after him than trained professionals.

With a sigh, he pulled the files out again. It seemed like this was a procedure he was going to repeat time and time again. There'd been nothing left at the house, nothing to suggest that Morton had even returned to the building since his release. But it had been worth a shot, worth double checking just in case he had. Morton had probably assumed that using that location again would have been too obvious, but he could always have called a double bluff. The assumption that he wouldn't use it because they already knew about it could have meant they'd keep away and therefore, it would have been safe. He'd been wrong though. Contrary to popular belief, Patrick Jane wasn't right about absolutely everything all of the time. He did make mistakes, especially where Red John was concerned, unfortunately.

He still didn't know how or why he was released anyway. Jane had an inkling of an idea why, but the exact reason remained a mystery. Most likely, Lisbon knew and it was probably what added to her vitriol when he saw her last.

Maybe, if she was feeling more sociable when he saw her next, he'd actually ask. For now, he was just going to keep on trying to search for those elusive clues. To try and find Red John before he could do any more harm.

000

"Why was Ellery in so much debt?" Lisbon started and the man held up a hand to quickly cut her off.

Her frown deepened at his actions, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to provoke him; he could genuinely hold a lot of useful information and she didn't want to risk losing it, because some fat cat took a dislike to her. Instead, she settled back down in the chair and waited for him to speak, to hopefully answer her question. It was a simple one and there was no reason why he shouldn't.

"My work is confidential. I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you sensitive information such as that."

"Yes, and we're trying to find out who murdered your client, but you know, continue being stubborn like this and I'm sure we could make things much more difficult," she snapped back, her patience clearly wearing thin.

"We know that he defaulted several times on credit cards and such anyway," Van Pelt piped up, proud to be able to show off her research skills for a change. "And that every time he needed it dealt with, he came to you."

"For a hefty lump sum," Lisbon added and Farrington shifted uncomfortably on his chair. "Is that normal procedure in your business?"

"Not normal, no," Farrington replied, realizing that the women sitting opposite him were both surprisingly stubborn and not as easily swayed as he anticipated. "But Ellery was a special case."

"Special how?"

"The fact he kept defaulting? How could we trust him to keep up with repayments if he kept requiring our services?" Farrington stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "His debt with us would have grown stratospheric."

She nodded in assent, but didn't particularly like his answer. There was still something odd about that. Debt counselors were meant to make things easier on their customers when it came to money, not more difficult by asking for massive amounts of money in exchange for their services. Lisbon glanced at Van Pelt, who appeared to be having similar kinds of thoughts.

As soon as they were back at the CBI headquarters, she made a mental note to bring it up again and ask the red head to take a look into Farrington and Son's. It couldn't hurt and besides, if Mr. Farrington was explicitly omitting details such as that from her, there had to be a reason why. It was annoying, but often the badge meant people were particularly difficult to question, especially if they believed they had something to hide.

"Were you always the one to see him?"

"No. Only once or twice, when there were major problems," Farrington answered. It was easier than being evasive all the while. "Why?"

"Who usually dealt with him? Can we talk to them?"

"Stephen Bracey. He's on vacation at the moment, but as soon as he's back, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help," the man replied and Lisbon nodded. Somehow she wasn't surprised that this individual was away just when they needed to talk to him. "This is his number."

He handed over a scrap of paper with a cell phone number scribbled on it. Lisbon murmured her thanks before bidding the man farewell. Nothing could be easy, it seemed. If only they could get the break they needed…

**TBC…**


	6. Part 5

**A/N:** long!chapter! Well, for this fic anyway. And kitten is behaving suspiciously. I'm sure you all needed to know that.

Thank you to: Viktorija, autumnftw, Jisbon4ever, Frogster and Famous4it for reviewing part four and to Yana for betaing. I'm very grateful for it. :-)

x tromana

* * *

**Part Five**

"Have you managed to contact Bracey yet?"

"No, Boss… sorry."

"Well, keep trying, okay?"

After a surprisingly nervous Van Pelt nodded in agreement, Lisbon disappeared back into her office. They needed to get a damn break in this case, but nothing seemed to be working. Instead, she found herself trapped in old routines, old habits. Picking up a stack of files, she straightened them up before laying them back down, ensuring they were at a perfect angle compared to the rest of the desk. She barely knew what she was doing, but it was better than doing nothing, better than letting everything else eat her up from the inside.

She jumped as her telephone rang, knocking over her pencil holder, sending pens flying across the room. It was an internal call, from Hightower to be precise, not that it made too much difference either way. Work was work and Lisbon quietly hoped that her superior was about to supply her with some sort of distraction. Ever since Jane had left the CBI, the two women had been on much better terms. After all, Hightower had no need to continue threatening to fire Lisbon, then congratulating her every other week. Everything was a lot more consistent and they both knew where they stood with one another.

"Lisbon."

"Come to my office immediately, please," Hightower spoke sharply and Lisbon knew that it was a direct order. "I have news about the Ellery and O'Mara cases."

"Boss?"

"My office, please," she repeated patiently, almost as if she was speaking to one of her children. "See you in five minutes, Agent Lisbon."

She headed there immediately, not even stopping to tell her team what she was up to. Arriving earlier than Hightower had instructed, Lisbon spent a good two minutes simply pacing outside, waiting for the seconds to disappear so she could knock on her boss' door. Time always seemed to pass by painfully slowly whenever you were waiting for something, almost as if there was a sense of impending doom. After a final glance at her watch, Lisbon knocked sharply on the door and breathed a sigh of relief when she was instructed to enter. Though Hightower's request had been odd, she hoped desperately that whatever information she had, that it would actually give them some answers instead of throwing up yet more brick walls.

"Sit, Lisbon."She hadn't even had a chance to open her mouth and greet her. Lisbon, however, obeyed almost instantaneously and perched herself on the same chair she always did whenever she found herself in this specific office. Hightower was leaning against her desk, her face unreadable and the senior agent found herself growing apprehensive yet again.

"Somebody else has appeared to be murdered by the same killer as O'Mara and Ellery," Hightower stated, briefly flashing the folder before Lisbon's eyes.

"Right…"

"The victim has already been identified," she started, sounding rather more tentative than beforehand. "By a sibling. I believe he was the one to discover his body."

"What is it? What's happened?"

"It's your brother. Andrew."

Lisbon glanced to the floor as her blood ran cold. While she didn't have the same problems with Andy as she did with Tommy, she still hadn't spoken to him in a long while. It was because of a series of excuses, the same old ones: work, complete lack of time, work again. She'd been meaning to talk to him, find out how he'd been doing since his wife had left him. Now, if Hightower was to be believed, she never would.

"Are you sure you can continue with this case? What with the personal interest?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine, ma'am."

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"I will."

"And I don't want you going to the scene of the crime."

"But…"

"Send the rest of your team, but you stay here, look at the paper trails," Hightower stated, the look on her face stating she meant business. "I mean it, Lisbon."

She slammed the door shut as she left Hightower's office. The only thing she felt at that specific moment in time was an absolute numbness.

000

Jane threw the files across the room in sheer irritation, loosening the sheets of paper and sending them sprawling across the room.

Useless. Completely useless. Why the hell couldn't he see the links anymore? What was clouding his judgment? Was he still trying to read between the lines too much? With a sigh, he scrambled to his knees and started trying to tidy up again. Though throwing the innocent reports across the room had been rather cathartic, he hadn't achieved anything, instead making a mess in doing so. He hadn't even managed to scuff the wall in his little act of violence. That was disappointing.

He glanced towards the kitchen area of his home, considering a cup of tea, but he'd already had one quite recently, as well. Then, he glanced at the radio, wondering if the background noise was what was clouding up his thoughts, getting in the way of his work. Nodding decisively, he rose to his feet and went to press the button. It was a news report, by all accounts, something he usually saw as being terribly boring. They never delivered the facts straight, always skewed them to say something so much more interesting than it actually was; all deceit and lies and nothing much more.

He froze though.

They'd just mentioned a relative of Lisbon's. One of her brothers. Either that, or somebody who coincidentally shared her surname… but he was sure she'd mentioned an Andy once. There weren't _that _many coincidences in the world.

He'd been killed, murdered to be precise, by a serial killer, who wasn't Red John.

That was particularly interesting, especially given the fact that it was _Red John _she'd escaped from and arrested, not this new guy.

Ignoring the Red John files, he walked towards his couch and slipped on his jacket again. If he was of no use when it came to trying to catch Simon Morton once more, he might be able to help Lisbon find this new killer. All the anger he'd felt at being reprimanded and fined had suddenly dissipated; it was hard to be angry with somebody mourning the loss of a relative. Besides, she'd probably need to see someone, to talk about it. Nobody else really knew how to make Teresa Lisbon actually talk. They just believed her little white lines, her stubborn mantras of 'I'm fine' and 'nothing's wrong'. Nobody else dared to push her like he did. Everybody else would just leave her to it, when really, she would be hurting inside. Listening to her would help too.

And if nothing else, he might be able to stop her from traveling down the slippery slope of revenge that he had fallen down so long ago.

000

The office was quiet, almost painfully so.

Lisbon had actually listened to Hightower's instructions and only sent the rest of the team to the crime scene. They were due to report back within two hours to tell her what they found. That left her, alone with her thoughts, typing away mercilessly at the computer, trying to work out what the hell was going on. She hated being stuck in the office, especially during such a vital case. It wasn't particularly important to the D.A. or any politicians or even Hightower especially, despite the fact that it appeared to be a serial killer, but it was important to her, right here and right now. This was her brother they were dealing with, her younger, sweet brother whom she'd completely doted upon. Whoever was responsible, she was going to bring the bastard to justice. She owed it to Andy and it was all she could do for him now. Yet here she was, stuck in her office, doing absolutely nothing, while the rest of the team scoured the crime scene.

She couldn't even pretend that it wasn't him, that the victim hadn't been formally identified and therefore, a mistake could theoretically have been. Tommy had been the one to find him, to identify him. She'd even shelved her foolish pride to listen to the youngest of her brothers, to let him recount the harrowing tale of opening the front door and seeing Andy just hanging there, from the banister. She told him that everything would be okay, that they still had each other, that maybe, just maybe they should meet up with one another and catch up. They'd already lost both parents and one sibling now; enough was enough.

The sound of footsteps dragged her away from her daze. It was too early for the others to be back and the office was virtually dead. She glanced at her clock; lunch hour, of course nobody else would be around when there was food to be eaten, coffees to be drunk, and gossip to be swapped. The CBI was sometimes worse than a school playground when it came to rumors and Lisbon genuinely wondered whether or not Hightower thought she was in charge of a bunch of kids rather than highly trained state agents. That, however, didn't explain this lone individual approaching her now. Lisbon rose to her feet as the footsteps grew closer, her hand flying to her hip, ready to unhitch her gun, just in case.

She almost drew it just as she saw Patrick Jane in the threshold, sighed, and placed it firmly back in place. Though he shouldn't actually be there, she knew that physically speaking, he was just about as harmless as you could get. He wasn't about to inflict any bodily wounds on her. Mentally or emotionally, however, he was pretty deadly though.

"You were going to pull your gun on me," Jane said, sounding pained. "That isn't a very nice way to greet somebody."

"What are you doing here, Jane?"

"I wanted to see you."

Deciding there was little point in questioning his motives; they'd only become clear in three or so days' time, after he'd managed to carry out some kind of ingenious plan which confused everyone but him. Instead, she offered him a seat and took her own. For a short while she ignored him; there were a couple of things she needed to do on her computer before she could give him her full attention. It was hard enough to focus at work without unexpected interruptions, but she was determined to get through the rest of the day in one piece. Besides, of all the people to come and visit her at work, Patrick Jane was pretty near the bottom, especially after their most recent incursion, but that didn't matter too much. She'd been vaguely looking for a distraction, at least from everything that was going on in her head and Jane was just about as distracting as they came.

Eventually, after a little small talk, Jane told her about his plans. That he wanted to help them out again. Lisbon suspected there was more to it than that, but didn't have the energy to fight. Not today. Her brother had just been killed and not only was she stuck at work, but she was set the grizzly task of trying to work out who the hell had murdered him and why. She always tried to remain relatively aloof when it came to her cases, but this time she didn't have a choice but to allow it to become personal. Somebody else, this serial killer, whoever he was, had decided that for her.

Quirking an eyebrow, she stared at Jane, trying to work out exactly what _his_ motives were. Eventually, she nodded. Provided that Hightower agreed, she was more than willing to let Jane help them out, the case was at a dead end as of now. Jane grinned, looking as if all his Christmases had come at once and Lisbon wondered whether or not she had made a fatal decision. Half of her didn't care though. All she really wanted to do was go home and allow herself some time to adjust to the news.

During the lull in conversation, she glanced again at the database search she'd set up for Farrington and Son's. That was weird. Andy had no affiliation with them whatsoever.

He didn't fit the pattern.

**TBC…**


	7. Part 6

**A/N:** I'll be relieved when all my SSS stuff is posted. After this chapter, 4 to go. It's taken me over a month. Oops.

Thank you to: Viktorija, Frogster, anthropologist, Jisbon4ever, autumnftw, Ebony10 and Famous4it for reviewing part five and to Yana for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Six**

"We need to go talk to this Daniel Farrington again."

"Jane, it's old ground. He doesn't know anything and if he does, he's not telling."

"He annoyed you, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did."

Jane smirked and leaned back in his chair, satisfied with her response. She hadn't spoken much about her brothers - any of them - just yet. All he knew was that she was meant to meet Tommy for the first time in a decade within the next couple of days and that she was dreadfully nervous about it. She was definitely focusing on that more than the fact that one of her other brothers had died. However, that was hardly surprising. He'd seen her mourn the loss of Bosco, somebody she loved dearly but was only ever a friend. Still, it was probably better that she was holding up under the strain rather than breaking down every five seconds, a bit more productive, at any rate.

"I thought you came back to help out with the Morton case anyway?"

"Meh, Red John's not exactly making himself known, is he?" Jane stated surprisingly flippantly, given his personal interest in the case. "Besides, I'd have thought your priority would be finding whoever killed your brother."

"And the other two victims."

"Them too."

"My priority is both," Lisbon clarified. She was used to multitasking on cases and he seemed to have forgotten that. "And besides, the fact that Morton seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet is worrying me."

A sharp knock at the door was followed by Van Pelt shuffling inside the office. Clasped in her hand were some print outs, which she immediately handed over to Lisbon, who looked over them with interest. Van Pelt smiled briefly at Jane; though he could wind the hell out of anybody just by grinning at them, she liked having him back, working with them. He'd been working for the CBI for longer than she had, so, excepting the odd suspension and holiday, Jane had always been present. As far as she was concerned, he was part of the team and that meant the past couple of months were odd. Besides, it meant he couldn't do anything stupid again, such as breaking and entering, at least not without them knowing about it. They could keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't get into any more trouble.

"So Farrington's been siphoning off money from the accounts? To where?"

"That's the problem. The money just seems to disappear. I think it's either going to cash in hand transactions, or he's hiding it someplace else. It's large quantities of cash, after all. Why would he want to risk having that amount of money on him?"

"Nice work, Van Pelt. Go and keep digging. Check that it hasn't disappeared to any of his other accounts, especially his personal ones."

"Does this mean we can go and talk to him now?"

Lisbon let out a ragged sigh. The man was incorrigible.

"Yes, we can go see him."

Jane was already at her door as she reluctantly pushed herself to her feet. His enthusiasm was quite endearing, but she quickly dismissed it as his not having a chance to work his brand of magic on a murder suspect for a while. Obviously, he was determined to accompany them and she had no qualms about that. She just hoped that Jane would actually listen to her. That'd make for a nice change.

000

Jane was almost as stubborn about the protective vests as Rigsby was.

However, Lisbon, proud of her skills at persuasion, managed to get them both to wear one. Considering they were only going to question Farrington for a second time, having herself, Rigsby, Cho and Jane in attendance was a bit much, but she didn't care. Because of Van Pelt's discoveries, the man had suddenly shot up on their very brief list of suspects. Considering that all of Ellery's family looked clean, along with the O'Mara girl's, he and Stephen Bracey were the only ones left to suspect at the moment. Also, men who knew they were suspects were liable to react violently, especially if they were guilty, so the back up was a good idea.

Rigsby was meant to be going through the Red John files still, but she knew the break would do him good. Besides, Jane had told her that he had been going through them in his free time too, and quite uselessly; therefore, she wasn't too concerned about him spending an afternoon away from the office. She just hoped that Farrington would firstly, be compliant and secondly, not try to do anything ridiculously stupid.

The same applied to Jane. Despite the fact he actually agreed to wear the protective equipment, she still didn't trust him in the field, especially because he hadn't been working with them for a while. She knew that while he agreed to do things on her terms occasionally, they were usually the things that he wanted to do as well. If he had a better idea or a completely different plan, he was more than likely to completely disregard her instructions in favor of his own. It didn't matter that she had his - and everybody else's - safety in mind.

When they arrived, the building was eerily quiet, especially considering it was still well within working hours. It was almost as if everybody had, rather unusually, been given the day off for no apparent reason. Lisbon slipped out of the driver's seat, feeling rather disconcerted and Rigsby and Cho quickly followed suit. Jane, however, much to Lisbon's bemusement, stayed put. It seemed as though the unusual circumstances made him hesitate exiting the vehicle too. Quickly, Lisbon muttered that she would inform him when it was safe for him to join them, before moving to talk to her team. The sooner they found Farrington, the better.

The man didn't take long to make his presence known. As soon as he spotted the three agents, he dropped a suitcase, its contents spilling out onto the sidewalk. Deciding that leaving it there was the lesser of two of evils, he jumped over a fence with Rigsby and Lisbon hot on his heels. The moment Rigsby's feet hit the ground, however, a gun was fired, the bullet hitting him square in the chest. Suddenly, he felt very grateful for the invention of Kevlar as his boss managed to not only disarm Farrington, but floor and handcuff him. As she shoved the perp roughly in Cho's direction, she came to her subordinate's aid, the concern apparent on her face.

She hated seeing any of her team injured and always automatically blamed herself, regardless of whether or not she had actually been there.

000

Van Pelt hated being the one left alone in the office, especially when she found out that one of the others, this time Rigsby, had been hurt in the field. Especially as it was Rigsby; she was still overwhelmingly fond of him despite the fact they were meant to be nothing more than mere colleagues It meant she found it harder to concentrate, and was simply waiting for the phone to ring again for confirmation that everybody was okay. She knew that, technically speaking, it wasn't her place to worry, it was Lisbon's and Hightower's, but it wasn't exactly something she could turn off and push aside. Then again, she didn't know of anyone who actually could. Despite his excellent poker face, she was fairly certain that this kind of news would even shake up Cho.

She barely noticed the gentle ping of a window popping up at the bottom of the screen. In fact, she'd been staring into thin air for a good two minutes or so, not doing anything and trying to shut up the niggling thoughts in the back of her mind. Eventually, she did notice it though and opened it with a vague interest. Initially, she thought it was nothing important. Not until Simon Morton filled her screen with a bright smile which would have looked cheerful on anybody else. Considering who he was and what he'd done, he just looked creepy instead though, in her opinion. While she listened to what he had to say, she accidentally knocked over her coffee in her haste to get her cell phone. Lisbon needed to hurry up back and soon. She'd needed to hear this message and it wasn't exactly something Van Pelt felt comfortable telling her over the phone.

When she eventually arrived back, Van Pelt felt a horrible mixture of relief and apprehension. She didn't want to be the one to show her boss the video, but she didn't have much choice. It didn't help that the day had been stressful enough as it was; wasn't losing her brother and having a member of the team injured enough to be dealing with? Van Pelt shook her head - clearly fate thought otherwise and had decided that she was to be the bringer of bad news. Lisbon rushed through the facts quickly, that Cho had accompanied Farrington back to the headquarters, that they'd be doing the questioning, no doubt with a mixture of both help and hindrance from Jane. With a meaningful glance at Van Pelt, Lisbon also informed her Rigsby was going to be absolutely fine. He might have broken a rib and he was definitely bruised, but there was nothing that a little time and a few painkillers couldn't fix. Finally, she got around to the exact reason why Van Pelt had been so insistent about summoning them so quickly and the younger woman's discomfort returned ten-fold.

It wasn't until Lisbon was firmly seated that Van Pelt opened the window once more and pressed play on the video. She couldn't let her boss remain standing while Morton, via a recording, told them what he had to say.

"_Hello Agent Lisbon. _

_I guess you're thinking that it's my dear colleague and friend who is responsible for your brother's death. Well, you think wrong. It's me. He just let me imitate his style, for a change. After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and he is developing well, don't you think?_

_And this provides you with the evidence you need to get a conviction._

_Question is, can you catch me before I catch you?"_

**TBC…**


	8. Part 7

**A/N:** Migraine of doom is back. I'm so happy. I might try writing some more, but planning stuff is completely out of the question. Great.

Thank you to: Viktorija, DrEvilsketch, Famous4it, Frogster, autumnftw, anthropologist and Jisbon4ever for reviewing part six. Very much appreciated.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Seven**

"Lisbon?"

Van Pelt tapped her shoulder gently, just as Jane made his way across the bullpen. She stared at the screen blankly, only really noticing the gentle breaths of the woman standing beside her. She wasn't quite sure how to react; it just seemed too bizarre to even start to comprehend it. So, it was beginning. Red John had actually made his first move and struck her family. That meant he was on the move and as the call said, likely to start closing in on them at any time.

She'd been so busy trying to think of reasons why somebody would want to kill Andrew. Dear, sweet, little Andy who would never hurt a fly. Of course, the idea that it was to get at her had briefly flitted across her mind when she had first received the news from Hightower, it was only natural. Lisbon had disregarded it as egotistical, unlikely. Even with Red John's blatant threats in the court room, something which seemed to have happened so long ago now, she couldn't accept that her little brother had been killed as some kind of message. But now she had the facts, literally. Red John had recorded a message of himself gloating about it and sent it directly to Van Pelt's computer.

And he'd said that they were next.

But when he said they, exactly who did he have in mind? She could cope with threats to her own life. In fact, if he hadn't threatened her upon acquittal, she'd have been very surprised since it was so expected of him. However, if he meant the whole team, she wasn't quite sure how to react. Her brother had already fallen victim to him and it was entirely possible that the man was threatening her team, her second family.

"Lisbon."

She shook her head as she finally realized Jane was present in the room. He knelt beside her and Van Pelt, automatically, moved aside. She wasn't sure what Jane was going to do with her boss, but knew it was best that she didn't intervene.

"I saw the message," he whispered in a hushed breath. "You will be okay. We'll catch Red John and throw him back into jail to rot."

"I'm fine."

"You don't look it from where I'm standing."

"How about you just leave me alone? I've got to go and meet my brother."

Quickly, she stood and left the bullpen.

"That could have gone better, couldn't it?"

"Yeah," Van Pelt replied with a sharp nod. "Will she be okay? Really?"

"I think so. We just need to give her time."

'_But she's already had a lot of crap thrown in her direction,' _a nagging voice in the back of Jane's mind whispered. _'Just how much more can one person cope with? Look at how little, in comparison, caused _your_ breakdown.'_

000

Her knuckles were going white because she was gripping the steering wheel so tightly. Lisbon wished she could release her hands, if only just a little because it was growing a little uncomfortable, but she couldn't. She was too angry, too nervous and blaming herself for far too many things. On top of everything, she was waiting to meet a brother she virtually _hated_ for the first time in ten years. It had been too long; she hadn't intended to let the feud just keep going and going, but the time had just slipped by. Because of that, emotions had been heightened; anger had been festering away like a poison. It was ridiculous and she just hoped that they could move past it.

Especially now that Andy was dead.

They'd lost too many relatives now to lose each other. Even though they barely knew one another now, they had to try and salvage whatever was left of their relationship, didn't they? They'd already suffered enough losses without willingly cutting one another out.

She jumped when a car pulled up beside hers and a man with dark hair climbed out. When he turned around, she recognized him almost immediately. Of course, his face was a little more lined, hairline receding and he'd grown a terrible beard, but she'd recognize his face almost anywhere. At first, she was a little thrown off by the physical changes, but then realized that it would have been utterly ridiculous for him to look exactly the same as when she'd seen him last at Aunt Susie's wedding. She snorted. Susie had gotten divorce just over a year ago as well. Nervously, she released her death-grip on the wheel, opened the door, and slowly approached him. Thomas Lisbon narrowed his eyes in the direction of his elder sister. She'd called him out of the blue and he genuinely had absolutely no idea what she wanted from him.

"Teresa."

He spoke her name coolly and she suddenly had a feeling that was going to be more difficult than she originally anticipated. She wiped her sweaty palms down her pants before murmuring his name in acknowledgment and quickly asking him how he was. He shook his head; clearly, he didn't care about all that.

"What do you want?"

"To catch up, to find out about my younger brother," she replied indignantly.

"Don't lie, Teresa."

"Fine. Play it your way, then. Andy's dead."

"Oh."

"He was murdered."

"I take it you're investigating it?"

"I am."

He glanced away and Lisbon swallowed hard. She was trained in breaking the news of the deaths of loved ones. It was an important part of her job. Yet, it was one thing telling a stranger and trying to get information about the deceased's character from them and another entirely telling a family member.

"Any idea who did it?"

"Red John."

"Red who?"

"Red John. One of the most notorious serial killers of the past decade? Generally kills women? Leaves a smiley face painted in his victim's blood on the wall?"

"Why Andrew?"

"Because I arrested him."

"So it's your fault he died then?"

"What… Tommy, no…"

"If you hadn't caught this serial killer, this Red John person, you wouldn't have pissed him off and he wouldn't have wanted revenge," Tommy hissed, glaring at her. "Well. Thanks for warning me. I guess I could be next."

"Tommy…"

He stormed off, got into his car and drove off, leaving her to choke in the dust. So much for forgive and forget then.

000

"You do know, Rigsby's injury wasn't your fault," Jane whispered, leaning down to be ever so slightly closer to Lisbon's right ear. "You did all you could, and made him wear one of those ridiculously uncomfortable vests."

"Shut up, Jane."

She wasn't in the mood for his crap. Things were going from bad to worse and it seemed like nothing was going to stop the freefall. Life just wasn't fair and she cursed herself for still being unable to accept it.

"You've missed saying that too, haven't you?"

"I'm trying to listen here."

She waved a hand gently in the direction of the sheet of glass in front of them, the one way mirror that allowed them to see into the interrogation room, while its occupants saw nothing but a reflective surface. Of course, both of them knew full well that they were in there, listening to their conversation. Farrington was not a fool and had been doing a pretty good job evading Cho's questions. Well, he couldn't be, if he'd murdered two people before they managed to succeed in catching him. And if he did kill Ellery and O'Mara, then he also had links to Red John. Now, they just had to prove that he was responsible. They'd already applied for a warrant to search his home and if he wasn't compliant, Lisbon was hoping they'd find enough evidence to charge him there.

She knew what Jane was trying to do, by bringing up Rigsby. He was trying to distract her thoughts away from Tommy, away from Andy, but it wasn't really enough. Besides, Rigsby was only one of a thousand things on her mind and they knew that in the long run, he was going to be absolutely fine. Her meeting with Tommy could have gone far better and had given her a lot of food for thought. He was right; she should have warned him, should have let him know that a serial killer was out for her blood. She could have even done something more proactive about it, put him under witness protection, even if it was just as a temporary precaution until Red John was back behind bars.

She should have told Tommy too and now he was fuming. It was one thing if she willfully thrust herself into danger and another entirely if it affected her siblings. Now he had a reason to be equally furious with her. This was only deterring them trying to re-build the bridges they had long since burned. There was also the whole Red John debacle too - just how closely linked was Farrington to Simon Morton? Was there something blindingly obvious they were just missing? And why couldn't she see it.

Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She was thinking too hard and allowing herself to get distracted from the task in hand when she should have been concentrating on the interview happening right in front of her.

"Well, I didn't expect that."

"What?"

She glanced at Jane, looking slightly dazed. Wordlessly, he reached out and gently took hold of her elbow. Briefly, she opened her mouth to fight him, but she quickly clamped it shut once more. Instead, she allowed him to lead her out of the small room and back towards her office as Cho finished up the interrogation, looking rather pleased with himself.

"What's going on, Jane?"

"He confessed," Jane said lightly, brushing a couple of tendrils of hair out of her eyes. "While you were daydreaming. That's unlike you."

"A lot on my mind."

"I know there is."

"He claimed to be Red John's step-brother too."

"But we'd have known that, there'd be marriage records. Wouldn't there?"

Jane shrugged.

"Maybe their parents never married and they just classify one another as relatives?" he suggested and Lisbon couldn't help but look dubious. "It's worth getting Van Pelt to check it out, isn't it?"

"I guess."

If it was proven to be correct, Lisbon knew she'd beat herself up about it though. It was one of those things that just seemed too obvious for them to miss.

**TBC…**


	9. Part 8

**A/N:** Not gonna say much here. Sorry.

Thank you to: Ebony10, Viktorija, autumnftw, Jisbon4ever, Famous4it, anthropologist and Frogster for reviewing part seven and to Yana for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Eight**

Lisbon felt like hitting her head against a brick wall. As soon as she'd walked into the office that morning, Van Pelt confirmed that Farrington's father had dated Morton's mother, albeit briefly. She wondered just how she could have missed such an obvious detail. That had been her first thought when Jane told her that Farrington had revealed his relation to Red John and it was still her reaction now. It didn't matter that sometimes, these things didn't become obvious except in retrospect, she still felt like she'd failed at her job. If she'd seen the link between Farrington and Red John earlier, during the investigation into the O'Mara case, then they _might_ have been able to save Michael Ellery. Not that having a serial killer relative necessarily made him a killer too, but it would have set off the warning bells a little earlier. It wouldn't have done anything for her brother though, as he wasn't responsible. Still, a death was a death and she had failed to prevent one from occuring. And considering everything else that was going on relating to the case, her life and the like, it was one more thing to occupy her mind.

Jane, however, seemed to have taken it a little easier. Of course, it was the kind of link he prided himself in uncovering, but it wasn't his job to apprehend people like Farrington. It was his job to help _them _do that. The fine definition was just enough to ease his conscience a little, not that he ever particularly took this kind of situation to heart. Knowing about Farrington certainly wouldn't have helped them to catch Morton faster, so that didn't bother him either. During their investigation into Red John, Farrington had appeared to be a typical well to do member of society, with no intention to suddenly start maiming and killing his unsuspecting employees.

Still, at least they'd solved it. They now knew that Farrington had killed O'Mara simply because she'd refused to date him despite being his boss and that Ellery was next to go as he'd worked out what was happening to the money in a rare five minutes he was left alone in Farrington's office. They had the CSI people bagging the evidence up as they sat, in silence, wondering where the hell to do next with Simon Morton.

Cho and Van Pelt had gone out to celebrate closing yet another case, as dictated by routine, with the intention of dropping in on Rigsby as well. Lisbon feigned a migraine and Jane insisted that he stayed behind 'to check she didn't faint'. The video message from Morton hadn't been enough the dampen any of their appetites the way it had Lisbon's and Jane's.

Lisbon glanced up from her hands briefly and opened her mouth to speak, but quickly changed her mind, instead shaking her head. Jane noticed and shrugged slightly. The silence was uncomfortable, but it was one of those situations where they just didn't know what to say or do. Did they talk about the Farrington success despite the fact his 'brother' was still at large? What about Morton himself? He was still in hiding and they didn't seem any closer to finding him again. The video source couldn't be traced. What about her brother? She hadn't even had time to start mourning him properly and no doubt, Hightower would probably enforce some leave in order for her to do just that. Their boss did like trying to watch out for the welfare of her subordinates, whether or not the interference was actually welcomed.

Eventually, Jane left her in peace, citing that they needed a refill of coffees to keep them going for the day. For what purpose, Lisbon wasn't exactly sure. It wasn't as if they were particularly doing much as it was. Quietly, she buried her head in her hands, partially wishing this was all some kind of horrible dream and she'd wake up to her cell phone ringing with Andy calling to whine about his ex-wife. She jumped as her phone did just that, though it didn't change the fact her brother was dead.

Tentatively, she answered the call and listened closely to what the caller had to say.

It was an anonymous tip. Red John had been spotted just five blocks away, entering an abandoned apartment building.

000

His brother had done him well.

Of course, the authorities would claim that Daniel Farrington wasn't actually his brother, partially because they weren't related by blood or marriage, but that didn't matter. In those short couple of years when their parents had shared a brief, yet beautiful, relationship, they had formed an inseparable bond. Daniel had been the first to know when he first killed and hadn't batted an eyelid. He'd understood why his brother had done it, why some people needed to live and others to die. In fact, as time progressed and more killings occurred, Daniel had even started to help him. Even if it was a simple task like burning evidence, putting him in contact with Rebecca and the like or more complex, like actually accompanying him to murders. It didn't matter because he _understood_.

This was proven when after his arrest, Daniel tried to carry on where he had left off. First, with that foolish O'Mara girl and then with that overly-nosy client. That had been his downfall; the victims had linked far too closely to him. And then, Daniel had provided him with a plethora of safe havens, to hide away from the cops while he planned his next move. The cash he'd siphoned off from various accounts from his clientele had no name attached to them and was therefore, untraceable. He was safe.

Of course, now, they'd taken Daniel away from him. He'd be locked up, accused of the murder of two more than deserving victims and probably end up facing the death penalty; simply because nobody else understood what they both did and why. It was a shame really. He'd recorded the message for the lovely Agent Lisbon because he didn't want his brother being arrested for a 'crime' he didn't commit. Besides, the woman had probably assumed that the man who had killed her brother was arrested and justice was done and he was now setting her straight back to square one.

Well, sort of anyway.

In reality, Simon Morton was getting bored of this cat and mouse game. It was why they'd caught him so easily before his acquittal. His heart just wasn't in it anymore. Taunting Patrick Jane had become too easy, especially when he realized the effect that threatening any of his colleagues had on him. It was just too easy to wind him up. He'd lost the calculating streak he'd had before he'd grown too attached to the CBI's Serious Crimes Unit.

And that was why he was ready to face them, to end this farce.

He clicked his cell phone shut. Regardless of how foolish it would be for them to follow up that anonymous lead, he knew Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon all too well.

They simply wouldn't be able to resist.

000

"We can't, Lisbon. You know it's too dangerous."

Jane couldn't believe the change of personality. Normally, when it came to Red John, it was he who was the one being reckless, not caring about the outcome. Lisbon was the one holding him back and trying to stop him from needlessly throwing his life away. The role reversal left him feeling uncomfortable. Of course, he found the telephone call intriguing and he was itching to have a look, but still. They had to think of all the facts rationally. Red John had just admitted that he had killed her brother by mimicking somebody else's style, probably to make her hurt and act irrational, just like she was now. Simon Morton was a dangerous man and could easily have been trying to lead them into a trap, as he had done so many times beforehand.

The fact that the tip off came less than twenty four hours after the video message sat uncomfortably as well.

In the end, he shoved his doubts away and agreed. However, he insisted on waiting until the others were back, so that they had backup at hand should anything go wrong. If she had been in a more clear state of mind, Lisbon would have been pretty impressed by Jane's desire to behave sensibly but as it was, she just wanted to get a move on. What if Morton was there and found out they'd been informed of his location? She didn't want to risk him moving on before they had a chance to apprehend him. He'd confessed that he was responsible and most likely would have some other evidence somewhere - he'd been known to hoard things from his victims in the past - so they were virtually guaranteed a conviction. It was just a case of not letting him slip through their fingers yet again.

Jane felt agitated during the brief journey, but Lisbon barely noticed. She was too busy thinking about the plausible outcomes of this trip. Though Jane believed she was acting a little rashly, she had been considering it; she just didn't want this lead to dry up before they had a chance to investigate. Due to his insistence of waiting for the rest of the team, they had already lost some precious time.

The block of apartments was pretty nondescript, though maybe a little on the shabby side. Jane still looked rather concerned though, but that didn't phase her. The sooner they'd had a look, the sooner she could stop worrying about it. It was unlikely that Morton would still be there, but if nothing else, they might be able to talk to a few of his neighbors. It was getting close to the end of the working day, which meant people should be arriving home at any time.

They crept upstairs slowly, both wearing protective vests, to be on the safe side. Twice in one day was a little much for Jane, but he accepted the reasoning. It would have been foolhardy chasing after Red John of all people without wearing one. The building was quiet, almost ominously so. People should have been coming and going at regular intervals. Eventually, they reached the third floor and apartment number 209. Lisbon knocked on the door, ready to draw her gun if need be. Obviously, she intended to enter the dwelling, much to Jane's annoyance. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as feasibly possible. The more he thought about it, the more wrong it felt.

"Come on there's nothing here," Jane spoke irritably, wandering away briefly to glance out of a nearby window. "We should just…"

He turned around, only to see that Lisbon was unconscious. Jane hadn't even heard her fall.

Seconds later, he was stumbling himself, before collapsing and being enveloped into blackness.

**TBC…**


	10. Part 9

**A/N:** Thanks to: Famous4it, Ebony10, autumnftw, Frogster, Jisbon4ever and Viktorija for reviewing part eight. Also to Yana for betaing.

Penultimate part...

x tromana

* * *

**Part Nine**

Lisbon was the first to stir.

Morton grinned. He was pleased that she was. Jane was so boring, so whiny. At least Lisbon had some spark in her. Morton had always enjoyed toying with her, both before and after his initial arrest. Her reactions made everything worthwhile. Of course, she'd pretend to be cool and calm, act as if nothing was affecting her, as a good cop should, but she always gave herself away. It was in the quiver of her voice, the slight shake of her hand, the look in her eyes, all those reactions that he thrived on.

Especially the fear, fear that you were about to die.

He licked his lips, barely dampening them as her eyes fluttered open slightly and automatically, she started pulling desperately at her bonds. Morton had used her own handcuffs to fasten her to the chair; he thought there was something poetic about that. Absent-mindedly, he played with her keys as he waited for Lisbon to be conscious enough to play with, to realize just what was going on. She was relatively slow to wake, but she had knocked her head on the wall as she fell, not that Jane particularly noticed at the time. The blond had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts, too desperate to leave to notice what was happening to his colleague. It was almost as if he didn't care about her at all. That would be a shame, because then what he had planned wouldn't be nearly as much fun.

They were both going to die, sooner or later. Lisbon first though. Despite being a cop, she was definitely more scared of death than Jane was; probably because she was exposed to it at such a young age and had never really grown used to the idea of losing people. She had more to live for than Jane too, even if it _was_ only her career. Jane had nothing. That's what made him so reckless and such a worthy adversary for a while. He was willing to throw everything into the ring, because he didn't care whether or not he died. Until he grew too close to the cops he worked with and Morton grew bored. The team still wasn't enough to give Jane something to live for; they were just a mere distraction. Simon Morton understood Jane better than Jane understood himself and as a consequence, Lisbon too. That's why he killed Lisbon's brother - because he knew it would make her spring immediately into action, making the game exciting again.

As it should be.

"Nice to see you're finally back in the land of the living," Morton remarked and Lisbon glared at him. "For now."

He was unmasked. There was no need to wear that ridiculous plastic contraption, the one with a built in voice modulator. They knew who he was, so it kind of defeated the purpose of wearing it at all.

"I see you've already charged my brother. Nice job."

She snorted and Morton narrowed his eyes.

"What, can't I give you a compliment?"

"Not really, no."

"Well, that's a shame. I hope you prove to be more of a test than your younger bro-"

"You bastard," she snapped, kicking out at him and barely catching his kneecap.

"You're going to regret that you ever did that, Miss Lisbon."

000

"This has something to do with Red John."

"It's been less than twenty four hours," Cho stated, furrowing his brow ever so slightly as he did so. "Lisbon said to wait."

Van Pelt snorted derisively. Of course she knew that there was technically no reason to be concerned, but this was Lisbon and Jane they were talking about. She knew that Cho was well aware that Lisbon and Jane not turning up to work was like Rigsby deciding a healthy food diet would be the best course of action. It was just odd, out of character, wrong, for both of them. Jane was never ill and Lisbon never took a sick day even when she was. They couldn't just sit around and do nothing. If they did, who knew when - or if - they'd find the rest of their team. The last time they'd all come across the serial killer, they'd all been lucky to get out relatively unscathed. Just the odd battle wound and dark memory to be battling every so often. Van Pelt shook her head. Now was not the time to be thinking of that room, filling with smoke as Rigsby tried desperately to find an exit.

"Would you rather we find them alive or dead?" she hissed and rounded on the other agent. "Last time, you were shot, Lisbon was nearly stabbed to death and…"

"Alright. Fine."

It wasn't the first time he'd disobeyed a direct order from Lisbon and he was fairly certain it wouldn't be the last. Van Pelt broke out into a watery smile; it was only a small victory, after all. They still hadn't located Jane or Lisbon just yet. With a sigh, Van Pelt booted up her computer, drumming her fingertips against her desk impatiently as she waited for it to load. Clearly, the technology didn't understand either that time was of the essence. At least Cho had something constructive to do: assembling everything required to make the bust and maybe even some backup as well. Instead, she was left sitting, waiting for a virus-riddled computer to do her bidding, wasting precious time and , she should have been grateful that Lisbon had been calmed down enough (by Jane, of all people) to take safety precautions at all. According to the consultant, she had been acting rather hot-headed and eager to sort things out. Van Pelt didn't blame her. After all, if they were trying to catch somebody who had recently killed a member of her family, she would be struggling to keep it all together too. At least Jane understood and knew how their boss was feeling. He'd even managed to reassess his priorities and stop himself from killing Red John once and shelved the idea again in favor of legal means. He didn't need to come back and help them, he could have continued with his fruitless quest for bloody vengeance upon Red John's acquittal, but he didn't. Admittedly, it had taken Andrew Lisbon's death for Jane to recollect his reassess what was important to him, but it was better late than never.

Eventually the technology not only loaded, but also managed to give Van Pelt the information she needed, all thanks to a little GPS tracker slipped into Lisbon's pocket. Quickly, she scribbled down the details as Cho approached her. Though she didn't tell Cho, she quietly hoped that Lisbon still had it on her and it hadn't been dumped before the pair moved or were kidnapped.

"Got a location yet?" Cho asked, passing her a bulletproof vest.

"Yeah. Not far, thankfully."

Cho nodded. Hopefully they weren't too late. Red John did like to toy with his victims - especially cops - so he could only hope that he would be doing just that.

000

After threatening her, Morton had left the room, presumably to go and check on Jane. She still had no chance of escape. Not only was she handcuffed to a chair, but also chained to some metal piping. Her keys, the ones he'd taken from her, lay just out of reach. Lisbon tried desperately to get them with her foot but had only succeeded in kicking them further away. Then again, if she had managed to get them closer, she wasn't quite sure what she was going to do next. It wasn't as if she was Jane, who had no doubt studied escapology at some point in his frankly odd career. Nevertheless, she had to try, otherwise, she was just handing herself over on a silver platter. She knew what Morton's plans were, he'd told her as much. Unless Cho and Van Pelt disobeyed her order and showed up earlier than twenty four hours, she was going to die.

She'd never wanted them to ignore her orders so much before in her life.

As the door creaked open, she froze, closed her eyes and hoped for the best. Obviously, her solitude was to be short-lived, but she prayed it was for the right reasons rather than the wrong. Jane was pushed into the room headfirst, looking rather worse for wear and a rush of guilt engulfed her immediately. He'd said it was likely to be a trap and she didn't listen; she'd let her heart rule over her head because Simon Morton had murdered Andy.

While Morton had refused to lay a finger on her, despite the fact she had lashed out, he clearly hadn't had the same principles when it came to Jane. His jacket was torn in several places, indicating possible lacerations from the knife sheathed in the serial killer's belt. There was a purpling bruise on his left cheekbone and he limped slightly as he approached, every step obviously hurting him. This was her fault. If she'd taken his advice, neither of them would be in this predicament and Jane wouldn't be nursing several bruises.

Then again, she had a feeling that a few cuts were going to be the least of their worries. She couldn't see any way out of this, hadn't heard any cars pull up outside in the hour or so she'd been left alone. Hopes for escape were sinking faster than a shot down battleship. When she'd heard the approaching footsteps, Lisbon had hoped that Jane would be unaccompanied, that he had managed the feat that evaded her.

Obviously, those hopes hadn't been realized.

Morton pushed Jane roughly down to the ground and chained him to another length of piping. Lisbon knew what was going on: he was going to kill one of them, then the other. He just wanted to make sure that they had to watch each other suffer first.

She shook her head. Who was she kidding? Jane had to watch her suffer first because she knew that Morton would want to prolong his suffering for as long as feasibly possible. He probably even knew about the fact they'd distanced themselves from one another for a while and knew that would make things feel all the worse. After all, they'd reconciled for necessity rather than out of actual affection for each other.

Not that there wasn't any affection between them. Lisbon couldn't speak for Jane, but she at least saw him as a friend, even if she hadn't been a particularly good one of late.

"I'm sorry Jane," she whispered and he nodded.

"Meh, it's okay. We all make mistakes."

"But…"

"Oh enough is enough," Morton sighed and drew out a blade.

It wasn't the same one as before - that still lay in an evidence bag somewhere in the courthouse. Nonetheless, it was still vaguely familiar, probably of the same make. It certainly looked as if it was more than familiar in his hand.

"Any last words, Agent Lisbon?"

**TBC…**


	11. Part 10

**A/N: **Final chapter. And that means, finally the last of my Summer Secret Santa stuff is uploaded. It only took a month and a half to do that. Not too much time at all. Er...

Thank you to: Viktorija, Sarcastic Pygmy, Famous4it, autumnftw, TNBC, anthropologist, Frogster, Ebony10 and Jisbon4ever for reviewing part nine. Especially so to Sarcastic Pygmy, whom I couldn't reply to. Also to Yana for betaing this thing in super fast time, so it was done before the Summer Secret Santa deadline.

Oh and before I forget: voting has just opened in the Jellies over on Jello Forever. Just so people know. :-)

Also: I have a few things in the works, but nothing I can post imminently. I apologise if that means I've appeared to go quiet, but I will be back.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Ten**

_Two Weeks Later_

"You okay?"

Jane stood tentatively at the door, waiting for her to actually invite him in, manners temporarily overcoming him. Nodding gently, she waved him in and gratefully, Jane took a seat opposite her. It felt strangely good to be back at the CBI, especially knowing that Red John was back behind bars, where he should be, from where he should never have been released in the first place. He didn't even mind that he wasn't dead because Lisbon had survived - and so had the rest of the team. It had been a close call, closer than he cared to imagine. If Cho hadn't come in at just the right moment, then things could have been very different.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Lisbon scowled. There was no need for everyone to be so overprotective. All she had was a little more emotional scarring, something which wasn't exactly foreign to her. She'd have even come back to work earlier than she did if she hadn't had a funeral to deal with. Besides, Rigsby had just started back too and he was recovering from a gunshot wound rather than just a little shock and a couple of small lacerations from where Red John had managed to inflict on her mere seconds before he was apprehended. Jane himself had received far worse injuries; the bruise on his cheek was still present, if already fading. They both deserved the concern whereas she would have much preferred to disappear into the background. As far as she was concerned, they still had a job to do and things needed to get back to normal. There would be more problems if they dwelled on it for too long.

She certainly didn't want to spend any more time thinking about Red John. He didn't deserve her time and energy to any further extent. She'd dealt with the fact she had nearly died again and was already over it. Next time, she wouldn't be so impulsive and run headfirst into such a dangerous situation. She should have known better than to do that anyway. At least no one died and for that, Lisbon was exceedingly grateful.

The rest of the team was still pretty shaken up though. Rigsby had been cursing the fact he'd been shot in the first place, swearing that if he hadn't, he would have been able to accompany them to the apartment complex and then Red John wouldn't have been able to kidnap them. Van Pelt didn't seem to know what to do with herself either - Lisbon had told her that she'd done the right thing, but as with anything, the red head still doubted herself. And Cho, though he didn't say much, Lisbon knew he was angry with her. She didn't much like the idea of trust issues between herself and her second in command, but she knew time would heal that rift; it was just going to take a while. At least it hadn't been shattered beyond repair, that would have been devastating and it would have been another small victory for Simon Morton.

"I'm going to go and get a coffee. Do you want to come?"

"No thanks, Jane. I have paperwork to do."

"Form A47b by any chance?"

"Yes and they're overdue as Hightower has kindly reminded me."

"I'll bring you one back instead then."

"Thanks."

Jane quickly withdrew with a brief smile. There was no point in even trying to pull the woman away from her paperwork. He had a feeling she wouldn't be too receptive to putting the work off until a couple hours later, even if it was already late. As he left, he decided he'd make sure he distracted her later instead. It was her first day back, she shouldn't overdo it. He glanced briefly into the bullpen as he headed to the elevator. At least, Rigsby was taking it easy, as he should.

000

"You didn't come to the funeral."

"I didn't think you'd want me there."

"He's your brother too; you should have come."

Lisbon bit into her chicken sandwich and eyed her brother seriously. Half an hour after Jane had decided to go bother somebody else; Tommy rang, demanding that she meet him for lunch. After the last time she saw him, when he'd stormed off shortly after she informed him that Andy died, she felt she owed him a meeting at the very least. Besides, her brother never called to invite her anywhere; it took a lot for either of them to dare call one another these days. The call left her feeling a little optimistic about the possibility of them reconciling. After their last meeting, she'd feared she had lost her chance to reconcile with him. The call had almost been like a bolt out of the blue, a second chance.

"Agent Cho told me you nearly died," Tommy muttered, changing the subject. "That that Red John bastard nearly killed you."

"He did. Cho saved my life… Jane's too."

"Jane?"

"A colleague."

"Oh."

"Red John, he was a real psycho, wasn't he?"

She nodded.

"I looked him up, after I left. Even if you'd warned us, he'd have probably come after us regardless, wouldn't he?"

"Yes."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Lisbon kept picking up and placing her sandwich back down periodically. This reunion was harder than she anticipated, but then again, she never imagined it would be easy. There was so much water underneath the bridge, that it was hard to know what to talk about and how to maintain a conversation with her youngest brother now.

So much had happened in ten years and they were both very different people. The only thing they really had in common now was that their brother had died. It felt wrong though; families should never be so distant, unless they had a genuine reason to be so. Andy's death made their squabbles seem so petty and pointless now. Lisbon just hated that it required yet another death in their family for them to see that.

"Teresa, I'm sorry," he muttered, looking away from her. "For that thing… I…"

"It's in the past. Don't be."

He nodded, relieved but the dreaded silence enveloped them once more.

"We should stay in contact," Tommy suddenly announced and Lisbon looked at him quizzically. "We've lost too many people already."

She opened her mouth to snap back, to remind him that that was what she had been trying to say last time. Instead she merely nodded and took a sip of her orange juice. At least he was willing to try now instead of just giving up like before.

000

"One coffee, as promised."

"That was hours ago."

"Meh, it's your fault," Jane remarked flippantly as he sat down opposite her. "You went out for lunch so I had to go and get you yet another fresh one."

"You didn't have to. I could have just-"

"I know coffee tastes like industrial sludge anyway, but microwaving it would have made it even worse."

"It's…"

For the second time in a day, Lisbon let a retort die on her tongue. Explaining the virtues of coffee to Jane would be as pointless as trying to teach a cat to tap dance. Both were doomed to wind up with messy consequences. Instead, she took an appreciative sip of the drink. He was right though - the new drink was much better than having to reheat the first one he'd bought.

"I heard from the A.G.," Lisbon remarked quietly and Jane's ears perked up. "They're going to fast-track the Morton case. They want it over and done with as soon as possible."

"Will he…"

"Yes."

She didn't much like the death penalty, but they did still have it for a reason. Morton had been lucky to escape last time, so in a way it was his own fault that he was facing it yet again. Besides, if anybody deserved to die due to the crimes he'd committed, it was Simon Morton. He'd slain so many innocent victims and her brother was just the last in a very long line. She was meant to be the next and had only escaped by the skin of her teeth. Though she was fine with that, it wasn't something she was going to forget in a hurry.

"What do you think you'll do now?"

"What do you mean?"

Lisbon never assumed that Jane was going to stay on once the case was closed. As far as she was concerned, it was going to be the same as last time, with a resignation hitting her desk before the dust had even had a chance to settle. Instead, he was still sitting in front of her and she thought that he was waiting for the right time to bid them all farewell and walk out of their lives again. Then again, she also remembered the hug they shared, just after Cho wrested Morton out of the apartment and into one of the CBI vans. After Van Pelt had released them both from their bonds, Jane had clung onto her, almost desperately and she returned every emotion with equal fervor. It was only when Van Pelt had told her that there was a paramedic waiting outside and they both urgently required medical attention that she actually dared to let go. It was strange to think that had happened two weeks ago already.

"Last time…"

"I don't know why I did that."

She quirked an eyebrow and waited for him to elaborate.

"I left because I thought it was what I wanted. I don't have anything else I can do."

"You're staying then?"

"If you'll have me."

She smiled and nodded and Jane beamed in response. He hadn't coped well when he originally left and knew he'd made the right decision. Lisbon glanced briefly at her computer screen and he knew that was a sign that he should probably leave her alone. He was fine with that; his couch was calling him anyway.

"You know that fine you gave me a month ago?" Jane said hopefully, as he stood to leave her be. "Can you…"

"Absolutely not. You got off lightly; I should have arrested you."

Jane pouted. Some things would never change.

end


End file.
